


Kick Me Like a Stray

by litsasecret



Series: Werelynx [1]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Angst, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litsasecret/pseuds/litsasecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Weres are accepted, however reluctantly, by humans, it's always best to be surrounded by friends. Unfortunately, Tommy has none, and lives a hard-scrabble hand-to-mouth existence right up until he meets Adam, an Alpha cougar who wants nothing more than to make the pretty lynx a part of his mixed pack, his band, and his life.</p><p>Written for <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/lambliffbigbang/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/lambliffbigbang/"><strong>lambliffbigbang</strong></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Kick Me Like a Stray

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to-- basically everyone in this fandom, actually, but especially [](http://retrochic_21.livejournal.com/profile)[**retrochic_21**](http://retrochic_21.livejournal.com/) and [](http://inoru_no_hoshi.livejournal.com/profile)[**inoru_no_hoshi**](http://inoru_no_hoshi.livejournal.com/) for massive amounts of handholding, for being so supportive, and for reading bits and pieces of this at a time and telling me you wanted more; whether you were just stroking my ego or being honest doesn't matter (though I do hope the former); this would never have happened without you guys.
> 
> Most especially, thanks to [](http://traxits.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**traxits**](http://traxits.dreamwidth.org/) who both suggested a big bang as impetus to finish the fic AND wouldn't let me end it with "and then they had sex" because it "wouldn't be fair to the characters, Lit, or you."; as well as [](http://glambini.livejournal.com/profile)[**glambini**](http://glambini.livejournal.com/) who thoughtfully provided the dividers I used.
> 
> I am eternally grateful to both [](http://adamaddict_rh.livejournal.com/profile)[**adamaddict_rh**](http://adamaddict_rh.livejournal.com/) and [](http://glambini.livejournal.com/profile)[**glambini**](http://glambini.livejournal.com/) for the thorough beta.
> 
> [Link to art post.](http://inoru-no-hoshi.dreamwidth.org/7794.html)

  
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The cop was brutal, using hinge cuffs and wrenching his hands back without warning.

"I'm taking you in for public intoxication, son," he said, growly and cruel in Tommy's ear. It was code for 'your license says Were, and I don't like Weres' and Tommy knew it, but there wasn't anything he could do.

The cop shoved him back into the club, through the thronging people, drunk and dancing, laughing and making out and not being targeted by asshole cops. If he wasn't released tomorrow morning, he didn't know what he'd do. He couldn't afford bail, didn't know anyone who could, and desperation curled through his body like some sort of twisting, horrible miasma.

At least he'd get fed.

Abruptly, there was a man between him and the door, and the cop kept shoving him, and he stumbled into the other man's chest. He inhaled sharply, the distinct musk that screamed 'Were' like a beacon.

"Where are you going with my pack member?" he heard.

"Public intoxication," the cop said. "It's all legal."

"Except that there are federal laws that state a Were suspected of a misdemeanor crime can be remanded into custody of his Alpha. Also, seeing as how this is private property, he can't be publicly intoxicated." The strange Were brushed a hand through Tommy's hair and down to drape possessively over his neck.

His posture screamed Alpha, the energy radiating off him in waves making Tommy want to lie down and bare his throat. He shivered. Alphas were bad news for felines, he knew.

The cop was stuttering something like an excuse and pulling out the key to unlock Tommy's cuffs, and suddenly he had the use of his hands again. He had to suppress the urge to shift just to prove he could. Instead he scampered behind the strange Were, pressing his forehead between the Alpha's shoulder blades and breathing hard.

After a few more minutes of what amounted to snarled threats and stuttered apologies, the strange Were turned around, seizing Tommy's wrist.

“You okay?” he asked, and Tommy nodded shakily. He smiled at Tommy. “Good.”

"I want you to meet my band," he said and started dragging Tommy towards VIP.

They ended up in a crowded booth toward the back, the music no longer overwhelming, just a steady pulse through the bones of the club itself.

"Adam," the Alpha said.

Tommy nodded. Adam stared at him in expectation.

Tommy looked at the other occupants of the booth. It was a mixed crowd, mostly human but a small man who screamed coyote and a taller, more elegant man piqued his senses.

"Usually, in introductions, all parties share their names," Adam said, the amusement fading from his eyes.

"Tommy," he responded finally, seeing no way out.

“Tommy,” Adam said, like he was trying it out. “Tommy. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out on the town without protection?”

“I’m feline,” he said defensively.

Adam raised an eyebrow and the other two Weres chuckled at him. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“We don’t fall in for the whole pack dynamic.” Tommy could feel his hackles raising, and he bit his tongue to keep from being overtly antagonistic.

“That’s a myth,” Adam said flatly.

“I’m just going to go,” Tommy said, edging away from the group.

“Where?” Adam asked.

“Home,” Tommy said.

“Where you can’t afford your water bill?”

“I--“

“You just said you’re feline, but I can tell you haven’t showered in several days. So either you’re lying about being feline, who tend to be obsessed with personal hygiene-- which I happen to believe you aren’t-- or you haven’t been able to shower.”

“Shut up,” Tommy snarled. He was barely resisting the urge to attack, and the only thing that was keeping him in check was his surety of losing. Even if he shifted mid-leap, Adam could shift just as quickly, and unless Adam was something smaller than a lynx, he’d be fucked.

Adam snaked out a hand to snatch Tommy’s wrist.

“Hang out with us for awhile; come home with me. I’ll let you shower for as long as you want. Hell, you can even take a bath.”

Tommy tried to tug his wrist back.

“I can always remember suddenly about how you aren’t in my pack and call that cop back over.”

Tommy’s stomach sank.

“I’m sure they’ll let you shower at the county jail,” Adam said with a predatory smile. Tommy spared a half-a-second to wonder whether Adam really _would_ , then he wondered if it mattered.

Tommy swallowed hard. He let Adam draw him in, let himself be manhandled onto the Alpha’s lap.

That had been his goal in coming to the club tonight anyway, hadn’t it?

His skin itched from his need to be _clean_ ; his stomach ached, and so what if he had to go home with an Alpha who thought he had some sort of claim on Tommy?

Adam nuzzled into his neck, licking a little, mouthing the rings in his lobes, the single cuff at the point of his ear.

He shied away from the attention, and to his surprise, Adam let him.

“So like I was saying before you decided to run off and play hero; I can’t be in your touring band,” one of the Weres was saying.

“Cassidy, I heard you before, and it’s okay. You’ve gotta pursue your own dreams, you know?”

“Yeah, but that means you’ve got no one!”

Adam laughed. “I’ve got my dancers,” he said, gesturing at the four humans. “Everything else is gravy.”

“I might be able to find someone who can fumble bass,” the coyote said cheerfully. “But unless you can convince Monte somehow, I think you’re SOL on the guitar front. You might have to actually trust your label.”

Adam stiffened and snarled in disapproval. “Not a chance.”

“Well, I need more alcohol. Tommy? What’s your poison?” Cassidy asked, heaving to his feet.

“They have Coors on tap,” Tommy said.

“Okay, so a hurricane, double vodka?”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but Adam laughed behind him and said, “Sounds perfect, get me one too.”

  


Adam drove a Mustang, a black, obnoxious thing with heavily tinted windows and leather seats that made Tommy feel guilty to sink into despite the smooth flush of the alcohol burning away his emotions.

He let Adam haul him into the house, which was huge, and a little intimidating. Tommy had figured he was a little famous, sitting as they’d been in VIP, but this house? Tommy had to stop in the foyer and stare. For one, it had a foyer.

“C’mon, we can do the grand tour tomorrow. Master bedroom’s up this way,” Adam said, guiding Tommy through the hall with a steady hand at the small of his back.

Tommy let himself be guided; tripping on the thick pile of the carpet every few steps and wishing he’d had enough nerve to turn down the overly sweet mixed drinks at the club.

Adam showed him through the bedroom into the bathroom.

“Here,” Adam said gently, turning knobs in the shower until the room filled with the hiss of water and steam. “Take your time; the shampoo’s safe for colored hair, use anything you want, okay?”

Tommy nodded, watching in silent shock as Adam left the room, shutting the door behind him.

He quickly stripped and slipped under the scalding spray, sighing in pleasure as the itch on his skin melted away under it. He peered at the shelves of product and took his time picking which ones to use, moaning at the feel of natural sponge over his skin.

When he finished, feeling considerably more sober and definitely saner, he found a gigantic plush towel and some well-worn pajamas waiting for him. A deeper red flooded already flushed cheeks; embarrassed that he hadn’t even noticed Adam come in to leave them.

He dried off quickly, despite the towel inviting him to wrap up in it and hide in the bathroom, and dressed. The pajama bottoms fit surprisingly well and Tommy tried not to think about how many others might have worn them before. He left the top, because it would just be in his way.

When he emerged, Adam was waiting for him on the bed, freshly showered himself. Tommy wondered at that, but wasn’t really up to giving any of this much thought.

He forced a smile and climbed onto the bed.

“Don’t do that,” Adam said.

Tommy felt the smile melt into a frown of confusion.

“I’d been looking forward to seeing you smile all night,” Adam said, and it could have been an explanation. “And then you had to ruin it.”

“Sorry,” Tommy mumbled, unsure what to do with that beyond apologize and hope he can put his own clothes back on before Adam makes him leave-- and he’d been hoping for breakfast, he thought sadly.

Adam sighed, low and growling. “C’mere,” he said, drawing Tommy up against him without waiting for any sort of response. He buried his face against Tommy’s neck, licking at it a little, biting gently at the tendon.

Tommy startled and pulled away. The last thing he needed was some Alpha marking him, pretending to have a claim on him. Even a rich Alpha with a nice shower.

“Sorry,” Adam murmured. “Out of line. Okay, Tommy, let’s get some sleep?”

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it almost immediately. Gift horses and mouths, after all. Instead, he let Adam manhandle him into whatever position he deemed best and tried to relax enough to sleep.

The alcohol helped.

  


He was just serving the steaks out of the pan when Tommy ventured into the kitchen, wearing the pajamas Adam had found him and yawning.

“Hungry?” Adam asked, setting the plates on the table. He’d cooked eggs with the steaks, and they were still runny and delicious looking.

He hoped he’d got the meat rare enough for Tommy’s taste-- he sometimes let everything cook too long.

He set some toast on the table too, then noticed Tommy’s stare.

“Sorry it isn’t very fancy,” he said. “I can’t actually cook.”

“No,” Tommy said, shaking his head. “I’m not-- it’s just...”

Adam handed over a fork and a steak knife. Tommy stared at him.

Adam stared back. Tommy swallowed. “May I?”

Adam stabbed his fork into his steak and sawed furiously with the knife. “You hang around Alphas who deny you food often?” he asked, faux-polite.

In lieu of response, Tommy mimicked Adam’s motions, cutting into his own meal.

Adam strongly considered hunting down and destroying every person who’d ever hurt Tommy. He stared at his hands as they became more paw-like and considered letting himself change, however impolite it was to do so at the dinner table.

At least it would justify the low growl he could feel in his chest.

Tommy’s nostrils were flaring, and Adam had to fight the urge to leap over and mark him, _claim_ him, because if Tommy were _his_ he needn’t fear Adam. Unfortunately Tommy had made it clear last night that he didn’t want to be claimed.

It irked Adam a little, that the pretty, vulnerable kitty he’d taken home with him was willing to let just any Alpha look after him, no claim needed, but he’d never looked his gift horses in the mouth before, wasn’t going to start today.

He’d fold Tommy into his pack eventually anyway-- both Cassidy and Brad approved, and Neil would take to Tommy happily, given how much he liked looking after people. Adam’s mom would certainly approve as well.

Adam worked on finishing his steak. Across the table, the telltale crack of the bone breaking drew his attention, and he looked up to watch Tommy sucking at the marrow. Adam smiled and only just stopped himself from leaning in and licking the taste from Tommy’s lips.

Sometimes being an Alpha sucked, because every instinct screamed at him to claim, to protect, to _possess_. On the other hand, if he hadn’t been an Alpha, Tommy would be in jail right now. The trade-off was almost worth it.

“I recognize you now,” Tommy said to his plate.

“You didn’t before?”

“My mom doesn’t like you,” he replied, briefly looking at Adam before focusing on his plate again. He was using a corner of toast to mop up the yolk from the egg and the juice from the steak.

Adam laughed. “What about you?”

“A little mainstream for my tastes,” Tommy said; the way he was choosing his words, so careful, made Adam want to mark him _so badly_.

Adam raised an eyebrow. “And what, exactly are your tastes?”

Tommy shrugged. “I like my music to mean something, you know?”

Adam just shook his head. He gestured abruptly to Tommy’s empty plate. “You want seconds? There’s plenty.”

Tommy shook his head.

“In that case, I think I promised you as many baths as you wanted? I’ll set some clothes out for you; you take your time. I’m going to make some phone calls.”

 _And set up some fucking auditions,_ he added bitterly in his head. He couldn’t say it aloud-- the goal was to seduce the pretty little Were into his pack, not put him off with resentment and helplessness.

Instinct told him he had to appear in control at all times in front of this skittish Were, and when it came to his pack, he always followed his instinct.

  


Tommy hid in the master bathroom until he heard Adam enter the bedroom and then leave again.

Then he changed.

As a lynx he was smaller, less noticeable, and he could hide in shadows. Maybe he could even leave, though he wasn’t sure where he would go, or whether Adam would hunt him down, as Alphas were prone to do, in his experience.

He settled for slinking down the hall, following Adam’s scent to the front door where it was joined with another scent, unfamiliar, completely human.

The two had gone past the kitchen into what appeared to be an entertainment room. The space was huge, and he felt vulnerable, exposed. He huddled down beside a bookcase filled with DVDs to eavesdrop.

It was self-defense, he assured himself.

“Are you absolutely certain you don’t want to be in my touring band?”

“Very funny, Adam, but you know I can’t.”

Adam sighed. “It’s just so hard to find people who are actually okay with working with Weres. And I swear I’ve all but exhausted all the Were talent in this town.”

“That can’t be true,” the human said, shifting on the couch loudly. Tommy hugged the corner a little closer, hoping that the normal’s eyes wouldn’t notice him even as he stared straight at him.

“So, anything new in your life? Other than your woeful lack of a touring band, despite your imminent global tour?”

“Not particularly. Same old, same old. My album drops in a week, I go on tour a month after that. Other than thousands of interviews, I’m bored.”

“So-- you weren’t going to tell me that you found a bobcat for your pack?”

Tommy reacted instantly, launching himself at the door and down the hall, but Adam was faster. Adam’s bulk slammed him against the floor. Powerful jaws closed around his throat, and he whined with panic.

And then they were gone. Tommy flipped to his back, startled into hesitation by blue eyes set in a black face looking down at him, but not for long.

He brought his rear legs up and did his best to sink the claws into the soft belly of the cougar.

The cougar yowled and lurched back, but swiped his forepaw across Tommy’s face, and the white hot streaks of pain made him stagger away to find a table he could duck under.

He licked the back of his paw and rubbed it over his cheek, too deep in instinct to change back to human, to seek help.

The strange human crouched next to the black cougar, asking if he was okay, if he needed an ambulance.

Tommy wondered how the human thought the cougar was going to answer.

Then the cougar regained his feet and stalked over to where Tommy was cowering.

Tommy couldn’t control the whining, terrified noises coming from his throat.

The cougar hunched low so he could duck under the table too, and Tommy shut his eyes and flexed his claws.

He couldn’t win this fight, he couldn’t, and he was sorry, _he was_ , and-- then a hot, rough tongue was licking his face where the wounds still stung and throbbed, and that was it. Tommy felt everything melt back to human form, felt hot tears form under his eyelids as he panted for breath through the fear and pain.

Two more swipes with the tongue, and then it was Adam hovering over him. Tommy blinked at him.

“Still think felines don’t have a pack dynamic?” he asked.

Tommy slid out from under him, darted into the master bathroom, already back to lynx, tugged his wallet out of his discarded pants, and left through an open window.

  


Adam cocked his head, listening to the soft noises of Tommy leaving until he couldn’t hear anymore.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Who was that?”

“Just some Were I found at a club last night.”

“Mmhmm,” Kris said, a knowing look on his face.

Adam sighed. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. He’s gone.”

“You could track him,” Kris said reasonably.

“Not during daylight-- a black cougar wandering around? Gee, wonder who that is! And I’ve got like seven interviews this afternoon anyway.”

Kris tilted his head. “As an honorary human member of your pack, can I say something?”

Adam nodded seriously, head tilting again.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m being practical, Kris. I can’t save every Were in the world, or even this city. Trying is futile, especially when they don’t want to be saved.”

“I bet he smelled good,” Kris said.

Adam snarled, felt his jaw shift and his teeth elongate. Kris sighed and shook his head.

“I just hope he's okay.”

 

  
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Tommy was absolutely not going to go to the open auditions. He wouldn’t.

He’d been doing pretty well in tips at the Were bar he waited at, even if it would never be as much as his roommate made, but then their power got shut off.

Dave tried to brush it off, to laugh and say, “Next month,” but Tommy wasn’t stupid. He knew that Dave needed light to see, and they both needed to shower occasionally.

He looked at the announcement of the open auditions, and thought about things like contracts and having enough money to live on, and weighed it all against the possibility that Adam would maul him on sight.

Plus, returning to an Alpha who'd already tried to claim you once was basically an open invitation.

Then he thought about Dave finding a new roommate once he'd lost Tommy to Adam, one way or another; one who could get a real job, with guaranteed hours and minimum wage, and figured either way Dave would benefit.

It was kind of an important consideration, given how much Dave had looked after him since he’d moved into the city proper.

So Tommy spent the last of his birthday gift cards to buy Adam’s album, and he carefully repaired the frayed edges of his amplifier headphone wires with electrical tape and a prayer, and he learned the tabs.

He worked through the night to get everything memorized, snapping his last pick at around 3 am. He reluctantly went to bed, only to be awakened by sunlight streaming through the blinds not even four hours later.

He groaned, rolled over, and then went to go beg for a shower at the neighbor’s.

They turned him away.

Tommy bit his lip to keep from saying anything nasty and went back to his own apartment. He stared at himself in the mirror--at the claw marks on his face--for several minutes before he went to work with eyeliner and lip gloss and hairspray to make himself at least a little presentable.

He put on his cleanest club clothes and hopped a bus to the studio where the auditions were taking place.

He was two hours early and there were at least three dozen people already there.

His stomach flipped over and sank, settling somewhere between his knees.

There was no way in hell this could possibly work. He wasn't good enough to hope he'd be a better choice than everyone else trying out, and then there was the possibility of being mauled looming over him.

But there wasn't really any choice.

He settled in to wait, body still and lax. The guy across from him opened a new package of guitar picks. Tommy watched him, whole body tense for the kill, and the guy looked right at him and snorted.

“You want one?” he asked.

Tommy nodded. “Please?” he added.

“Not on your life. I _need_ this,” the guy said. Tommy remembered why he hated being around so many people, and he snarled at the guy, secretly pleased that his teeth had sharpened into the fangs of a carnivore, especially when the guy flinched and looked away.

Besides, it wasn’t like he _needed_ a pick. It would just be nice to have, and he’d be less likely to break a string.

Tommy settled back down, rubbing at the cuts on his cheek. He could sense only two other Weres in the room, both birds, which, what the hell? Didn't they know Adam was a cat? Everyone else was depressingly human, stinking of anxiety and anticipation.

Twenty minutes before the auditions, the room was packed, and the sheer number of people in the cramped space made him anxious. He had to consciously focus to keep himself human.

Then the human he’d seen at Adam’s house walked in. Tommy came instantly to attention, standing up in a single, lithe movement and startling the people around him, almost without thinking.

He rubbed at the scratches on his face some more, only just stopping himself from scratching outright. The last thing he needed was for them to scar.

Adam’s human friend made his way straight for Tommy, and grinned at him. “I remember you!”

Tommy ducked his head, suddenly not as eager to face this person.

“We didn’t get a chance to meet though-- Kris Allen,” he said.

 _Oh_ , Tommy thought. “Tommy,” he replied.

“So, you play guitar?”

“Yeah,” Tommy said, shrugging his shoulder under the weight of the guitar case.

“That's really good though, because Adam needs someone he can trust, right?”

Tommy flushed hotly with embarrassment.

Kris beamed at him. “I just meant since you're like him, and less likely to support the sort of people who picket his concerts than someone like me.”

Tommy looked at him, and wondered whether Kris thought he was being subtle or if he was just uncomfortable with Weres and didn't like calling them what they were.

“I--“ Kris interrupted him with a full body hug. Tommy fought off the instinctive response to that, instead letting Kris wrap his arms around him.

“Do me a favor,” Kris whispered in Tommy’s ear. “Let him take care of you.”

Kris left through the far door.

The guy with the brand new picks glared at him. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he said, snarling.

Tommy stared at the door that had closed behind Kris and thought smugly that he could snarl far better than the guy with the picks.

  


Adam didn’t bother looking up when Kris entered, he knew him intimately, from the soft hitch in his breath every fifth inhalation to the slightly hurried sound of his gait.

“Thank God you’re here,” he said. “I was afraid they’d start a riot, and I can’t start without you.”

“What, you don’t trust your label nanny to tell you the truth?” Kris asked, and Adam looked up just in time to see him cast a crooked smile in the direction of the label exec who would help him with the decision.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked Kris, even as he felt the corners of his lips turn up in response to his friend’s mood.

“You’ll see,” Kris said, nearly bouncing in his shoes.

Adam laughed and drew Kris in for a hug, catching a fleeting scent that shouldn’t have been familiar. He pulled away enough to stare at Kris. “Seriously, what’s up?”

Kris just shook his head and settled in to the nearest seat. “Ready whenever you are.”

Adam sighed with fond exasperation; he knew from long experience that Kris wouldn’t spill until he was good and ready. He gathered all of the patience he could muster around himself and settled in.

“Call in the first one,” he said, and an intern scurried through the doors to fetch a prospective guitarist.

By the thirtieth or so, Adam was nursing a headache and ready to rip someone’s head off. Literally. He could almost taste the blood, feel the heat of riven flesh on his tongue.

Kris, however, was still bouncing with excitement, to the point where Adam was annoyed enough to be concerned that Kris might be his first victim in the planned murder spree. _Hunting spree_ , he thought gleefully in the secret, dark corner of his mind controlled more by impulse and instinct than reason.

He suffered through a half dozen more auditions, and considered just letting the label guy pick and taking Kris out for lunch or something instead, when the next hopeful entered.

Adam could smell him, familiar Were musk underlain with an equally familiar individual scent.

He stared at Tommy, shocked.

The marks on his cheek where Adam had hit him were red and healing, and Adam could hear himself growling, low and deep.

That wasn’t the mark Tommy was supposed to have from him. Every instinct screamed at him: Tommy was _his_. He needed to shove Tommy against the nearest solid surface _now_ , to mark him properly. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the memory of Tommy’s skin, salty against his tongue. He hadn’t bitten hard enough, then; but he could fix that now... if he’d. _Just._

 _Pounce._

Tommy froze under his grip, staring up into his eyes, nervous and frightened, beautiful vulnerability and trembling lips.

Adam smiled, licked his own lips. He was usually ridiculously good at clinging to his human form; even now, struggling though he was against the onslaught of instinct and emotion Tommy tended to provoke in him, he managed to keep his fingernails from sharpening into claws. Mostly.

He vaguely registered the panic as everyone in the room but him and Tommy shouted and started rushing around, but those were human concerns.

He and Tommy were Weres, above all that and beneath it at the same time.

He waited, breath held, for the implicit permission Tommy could give him just by tilting his head, but it never came.

He shoved away from Tommy, snarling and unfulfilled. He paced through the room, enjoying the way all the humans fell over themselves to get out of his way.

He was terrifying, powerful, clever. Tommy shouldn’t reject him. He snapped back in Tommy’s direction with another snarl, and then Kris was there, soothing and fearless.

Kris. He inhaled sharply, smelling the panic as the humans sweated off their adrenaline. Kris smelled better, calm and familiar. He let Kris draw him to a chair, where he sat, docile, while everyone else bustled around to set right the equipment he’d knocked aside, to make the room more acceptable and safe for human tastes.

“Are you okay?” the label exec asked Tommy, with a nasty glare in Adam’s direction.

Tommy looked at Adam, then at Kris, and he nodded.

He set up his guitar, the sort of beat up old strat Adam'd seen at garage sales. A reject guitar. Adam sent a questioning look in Kris’s direction, but was redirected with a slight frown.

Tommy carefully strummed, checking the tuning pegs minutely before looking up again.

“What song do you want to hear?” he asked. “I know all of yours, now.”

Adam stared at him, chewing the inside of his lip as he thought. “Something meaningful.”

Tommy nodded, biting his lip against what might have been a wry smile, and strummed again before he found a chord, then another.

Adam vaguely recognized the song, the introduction familiar but not something he’d heard on the radio recently.

Tommy’s mouth started moving, silent lyrics Adam would give anything to hear, whether Tommy could do them justice or not. He looked utterly broken, hunched over a guitar in the middle of a room full of humans, all staring at him, his cheek marked and raw, his hair falling into his eyes despite the hairspray Adam could smell even from across the room.

He wondered if it meant that maybe Tommy wasn't okay after all.

Adam watched, fascinated, as Tommy hit what must have been a solo; the harmony shifted and his eyes slipped closed and his mouth stopped moving, jaw slack.

Adam stretched his hands out and flexed his fingers. He could see snags in the fabric of Tommy’s shirt from where he hadn’t managed to keep his nails blunted after all.

Then the song was over, and Adam inhaled sharply.

“So,” he said. Kris shook himself next to Adam. “Is he any good? Because as you might have noticed, I’m really fucking biased.”

Kris laughed, soft and pleased. “You might say that.”

The label exec cleared his throat. “You aren’t even halfway through the auditions. We can’t make a decision yet, especially given your ah... _instinctive_ reaction to him.”

Adam snorted. “You’re just afraid I’ll maul him on-stage and you’ll have to deal with a scandal.”

“I can handle myself,” Tommy said to the exec, firm and decisive, moving into Adam’s personal space and pulling his shirt up. Adam had a brief second to think ‘what the hell?’ before Tommy was tracing the eight long slices on his belly.

Tommy swallowed hard, face going pale under his makeup.

“Deeper than you thought, huh kitty?” Adam said lightly, teasing because he wanted Tommy at ease. Tommy’s hands shook as he pulled them away.

And they were back to fear and vulnerability.

Adam caught Tommy’s wrist before he could pull away completely.

“You know I’ve preferred to have Weres or those sympathetic to Weres in my band,” Adam said.

“And they haven’t been the least bit reliable,” the exec interjects.

“Neither have the people you’ve picked out for me,” Adam pointed out. After all, one of them _had_ tried to kill him.

Tommy had been acting out of instinct and self-defense, which was definitely a mark in his favor.

“Well, of course it is ultimately your decision--“

“Great.”

“If you’re certain--“

“Welcome to the band, Tommy,” Adam said.

Tommy stared at him for a few moments, expression inscrutable, before nodding minutely.

Adam felt lighter, somehow. He had Tommy now-- the only thing left would be to keep him.

  


Tommy stood at the bus stop, waiting. The bus was already 10 minutes late, and he worried it wasn’t coming and he’d be here for another 20 waiting for the next one.

So much for a hasty retreat, he thought ruefully.

Another person joined the crowded huddle under the shelter, jostling to press way too close to Tommy.

He jerked away, reflexively, and ran into another person. He looked up at him to apologize and got a face full of sun for his efforts. He didn’t like direct sunlight or people on _good_ days.

Despite the freshly signed contract in his bag, he wasn’t really counting today as a good day. Too many people, not enough sleep, and, well, Adam.

He bit his lip and ducked his head, retreating behind his bangs.

A horn sounded. The group of bus goers hushed and started whispering, so Tommy looked up.

A familiar, ostentatious Mustang was idling in the bus lane.

Tommy cursed under his breath, swiftly and inventively, and kept his head down.

Adam got out of the car. There was a collective murmur of surprise around Tommy as the other bus-goers recognized him.

Adam seized his wrist roughly. Tommy tried to pull it away. “Leave me alone.”

Adam laughed. “Get in the car, kitty.”

“I’d rather take the bus,” he said. “Thank you though.”

Adam unhooked the guitar case from Tommy's shoulder and the trunk of his Mustang popped open. Tommy's eyes were drawn to the keys in Adam's free hand.

“That's _mine_ ,” Tommy protested, reaching for his guitar.

“And it needs to go in the trunk, along with that bag.”

Tommy shook his head.

Adam slung the case over his own shoulder before pulling him closer. He cupped Tommy's cheek, rubbing his thumb over the scratches there. “Get in the car.”

Tommy looked at Adam, caught in his predatory stare for several moments. It felt like forever.

He inhaled deliberately, filtering out the sensory information from everyone else at the bus stop to focus on Adam.

He was anxious about something, Tommy could tell, but not what. Nothing was impinging on his senses; if there was, he’d probably already have changed and fled, given how tightly he was wound.

He leaned closer to Adam, rubbing his face slightly against Adam’s palm.

Adam must have taken it as acquiescence, and it might well have been, because Adam took the messenger bag as well before pushing Tommy over to the Mustang.

Adam watched as Tommy settled into the seat and leaned in over him to fasten his seatbelt before walking behind the car, slinging Tommy's things into the waiting trunk and slamming it closed. When Adam climbed into the driver's seat, Tommy glared at him from under his bangs, resenting the smug triumph on Adam’s face.

Adam ignored him, asking, “Where to?” like Tommy had some sort of choice in the matter.

Tommy didn’t answer, and Adam leaned across the console to get in Tommy’s face.

“You’re making this far more difficult than it needs to be, and it stopped being cute about ten minutes ago. Where to?”

“Like it matters. You’re not going to take me anywhere I want to go, are you?”

“I was going to take you home, unless you wanted to go somewhere else? Shopping? Lunch?”

Adam poked at the holes he’d put into Tommy’s shirt. “That’s the second shirt of yours I’ve either ruined or inadvertently stolen. Shopping it is.”

Tommy snarled, but Adam was already resettling himself in the seat and starting the car.

When they pulled up at a boutique that Tommy had no hope of affording even a scarf at, he started to protest.

“Shut up,” Adam growled. “I told you it wasn’t cute anymore.”

He remembered Kris whispering to him to let Adam take care of him, and he meekly got out of the car when Adam opened his door.

Adam held the door for him, crowding behind him into the enclosed area. He forged ahead after that, leaving Tommy staring around himself in the front of the store.

He came back with an armful of clothes.

Tommy could feel the slick edges of the expensive fabric, and he shivered a little at the thought of wearing something like this. He’d been told often enough that he was a whore for anything pretty and expensive-- this was just the proof he’d never actually had.

Adam stared at him, intense, overpowering. “Go try those on, and show me so we can get a handle on your sizes.”

Tommy shivered.

“There are jeans in here,” he said quietly. “You owe me two shirts, you said.”

“Yeah, there are. Go,” he said pushing Tommy toward the back.

Tommy put on a whole outfit before stepping out of the plush booth to show Adam. Adam tugged him around, shoving fingers between fabric and skin and frowning a little.

“You’re skin and bones,” he said abruptly, then pulled a snack bar out of his pocket.

Tommy stared at it, and his stomach churned and growled. He silently branded it traitor, and didn’t reach for the bar.

Adam leaned close, nostrils flaring and suddenly smelling like anger. Tommy recoiled.

Adam sighed. “Kitty, when I put food in front of you, it’s because I want you to eat. And I feel you should know that I am _this close_ to forcing you to tell me who the hell told you otherwise and tearing his throat out.”

Tommy nodded and took the bar, unwrapping it and taking a bite before Adam went back into the racks of clothing, selecting more items for Tommy to try on.

He came back with even more selections and Tommy stared at them. “Really?”

“Really. You’re in my band now, part of my image. And starving artist might work for you, but it doesn’t work for me. Go.”

Tommy sighed and went back into the booth.

“Good. Now, Tommy, tell me about yourself,” Adam urged as Tommy fumbled with the buttons on the shirt to take it off. “Send those out here; they’re too big.”

Tommy tried to shove the innate defensiveness down under his skin. Adam had fed him, had given him a job. He’d been nothing but kind, really; well, aside from the acts of violence and attempts at possession, but since Tommy hadn't died from them, he kind of had to take those in stride.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, finally, even as he sighed and laid down on the floor of the booth to wiggle into the pants. Adam smirked down at him and he glared back.

Adam cocked his head. “Hmm. How about why you didn’t say you could play guitar last week when Cassidy quit the band?”

Tommy frowned, finally fastening the button so he could stand back up. “I wasn’t really thinking about it?” Which was a total misdirect, but explaining how he’d been to focused on how terrifying Adam was to think about pushing his dubious guitar skills would take too much effort.

And Adam might take it the wrong way.

“So-- will you have to quit a job?”

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “I wait at a bar.”

“You’ll have to give them notice, won’t you? Train a replacement?”

“Yeah, I guess so. It’s not that hard, really. Look pretty, serve shots. Uniform sucks though, and so does the pay.” He unlocked the door and stepped outside. Adam give him a once over, then hitched a shoulder.

“That’s good, start a ‘keep’ pile.”

Tommy nodded and went back into the booth.

“Uniform?” he asked.

Tommy fingered the rhinestones on the denim jacket that was next on the block. He’d figured Adam for a leather guy, really. “You’re going to hunt this place down now, aren’t you?”

Adam snorted.

“I don’t suppose I could ask you nicely not to?”

“What’s it called?”

Tommy cleared his throat, felt heat prickle up the back of his neck. “Uh, the Blue Monkey,” he said quietly.

Adam didn’t make a sound.

Tommy resisted the urge to hide. All it would take was a quick shift and he could leave, sneak out under the dressing room walls and flee the store.

Except he’d done that before, and he'd come straight back. He wondered if maybe there was something wrong with him, inherently.

As he was fidgeting with the buttons on the cuffs of the jacket, Adam spoke. “A Were bar? You know how many people get hurt there?”

“Fuck you,” Tommy said. “ _I’m_ a Were, all right? You’d think _you_ of all people would get how hard it is for me to find a job, even in this city. There isn’t water at my apartment, or electricity. So if the only place that will hire me is a Were bar-- guess where I’m going to work?”

“The sort of people who go there-- damn it Tommy! How can you work someplace like that without being in a pack at the very least?”

“Easily! I get better tips than anyone who’s in a pack, and everyone gets way better tips than anyone with a mark!”

Tommy realized what he’d said about half-a-second after he said it. He swallowed hard, but left the safety of the booth to face Adam.

“That wasn’t an invitation,” he stated bluntly, even as he obediently turned in a circle at Adam’s silent direction.

Adam threw his hands up. “I didn’t say it was! Also, that jacket is a sin against nature. Give it here.”

He neatly folded it, and then leaned to touch Tommy’s cheek. “How did they feel about this?”

Tommy shrugged again, not wanting to go into the leering stares, the comments, the possessive touching. He didn’t like to think about it.

Adam’s stare was disconcerting. “They touch you?” he asked.

“It’s a bar, Adam. I’m not the only one there who has to fend off unwanted attention.”

“You’re the only one there I care about having unwanted attention.”

“I don’t think you really care about that at all.”

Adam remained silent, and Tommy went back into the stall. He couldn’t stand this anymore. He put his own clothes back on and left the room.

“I’d like to go home now,” he said. “I can take a bus from here if you want to keep shopping.”

Adam pulled Tommy against his side, waved at the girl at the register and said “I’ll be back,” as they left the boutique together.

To Tommy’s complete surprise, Adam walked him into the lobby of his building and, after eying Burt in his trucker cap at the front desk, left him to it.

“Rehearsal tomorrow,” Adam reminded him before tousling his hair and striding out of the building.

“Hey, Burt,” he said shyly as he walked past.

“New catch?” Burt asked with a complete lack of censure in his tone.

“Kinda?” Tommy said. “I don’t know.”

“You tell me if you get into any trouble, kid, got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Tommy agreed, feeling embarrassment heat the back of his neck.

“You’re a good kid, Tommy Joe, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Burt said.

Tommy ducked into the quiet safety of the stairwell, but he smiled to himself.

As he opened the apartment door, Dave emerged from his bedroom, sleepy-eyed and mussed.

“Hey Tommy,” he said. “Where’ve you been?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably. “Audition.”

Dave’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. “I thought when I told you about them you said you wouldn’t be able to go?”

“Yeah, well, circumstances change.”

“Tommy, we’re hard up, but there’s no reason for you to go try to get a job from the guy who did _that_ to you,” he said, gesturing at Tommy’s cheek.

“Not try-- he hired me. I played Metallica and he picked me,” Tommy said.

“Uh huh. And you’re gonna have to break contract the second he touches you again, and you _really_ can’t afford that.”

“I won’t. I’ll figure it out; but I need regular showers and light and heat, same as you. It’s a sacrifice, but I’m willing to make it.”

Dave sighed. “What about your day job?”

“Still going right up until the tour leaves. Need every cent, right?”

Dave ran his hand through his hair, and Tommy looked away and held his breath, a childish reaction, but he didn’t want to be able to sense how frustrated Dave was with him.

“You’re crazy,” Dave said, finally. “Just-- be careful, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tommy whispered. “Okay.”

 

  
[   
](http://www.mediafire.com/imageview.php?quickkey=nx9b353rcqdr5kw&thumb=5)   


 

Adam walked into the bar. He thought there could be a joke in there; the one about the cougar who wears deerskin and licks his lips whenever he sees a doe, but he couldn’t remember it exactly, and he was hunting better prey tonight.

The hostess was a coyote wearing a superficial smile.

“You smell like Tommy Joe,” she said abruptly.

Adam knew how to handle coyotes though; he’d loved one far too long not to.

He looked her in the eye and said, “Of course I do, sweetheart. I’m courting him.”

No coyote had plans for how to react when told the truth, and he loved the way she blinked up at him, the defiance in her eyes melting away to confusion before she recovered.

“You and everyone else who comes in here, _sweetheart_. And if you ever mark him again, you’ll have me to answer to, got it?”

She drew back a little. “You gonna eat or not?”

“I’ll eat,” he answered just as a dove flew in through the door and back-winged delicately to land at the hostess station.

“Changing room’s in the back, no shoes, no shirt, whatever,” she said to it, gesturing over her shoulder.

“Just to let you know, you aren’t the first he’s had on his string since he started here, or the last. And he hasn’t worn anyone’s mark since he stopped being a patron and started being an employee.”

“So he was claimed, before?” Anger and possessive instinct washed through him at the idea of it, and he could tell she’d sensed it, because her nostrils flared and she shied away.

Before she could answer, or flip him off, a bear with a full beard and mean eyes sauntered out of nowhere.

“Trouble?” he asked.

“Nosir,” the coyote replied with a shit-eating grin. She brandished a menu and glanced at Adam. “If you’ll just follow me to your table, one of our fine wait staff will be with you momentarily.”

After several minutes with the menu, during which he decided they couldn’t possibly have rancid meat or the large, raucous pack of wolves across the way would tear the place down, and that he’d better not have any of the many draft beers because, again, large, raucous pack of wolves, a bedraggled looking kid came up to him with doe-eyes and a pad of paper.

The joke filtered into his mind, suddenly, and he had to shove it aside along with everything in him that said he needed to get the poor deer out of there before anything happened to him.

He had a large, messy bruise across his throat, scabbed over in some places where the skin had been broken, and Adam managed a soothing smile for him. Not his responsibility.

And he’d been about to order the venison too. Adam sighed.

“18 ounce rib-eye, rare, and some water, please,” he told the waiter before he was prompted. The pack across the way burst into collective laughter at something their Alpha had said and Adam snarled.

“Don’t let them worry you,” the deer said softly, smiling innocently and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “They’re bikers, leaving in the morning, and they want a fuck more than a fight.”

“Yeah,” Adam said with a heavy sigh.

He remembered telling everyone on Idol what he was, remembered Gokey staring in horror and turning to Megan and telling her she should keep Ryder away.

Megan had ignored him.

 _”Well, you’re not a werewolf,” she’d said. “So what exactly are you?”_

 _“How can you possibly know that?” Danny had demanded._

 _“Well, if he is, he’s the sweetest biker_ I’ve _ever met, dunno about you.”_

 _Adam’d had to laugh. “Wolves and bikers, one and the same. No, I’m a cougar. A melanistic cougar; one of a kind.”_

 _“That you are in spades, Adam Lambert,” she’d replied, handing him Ryder and standing. “I need more booze, anyone else dry?” She’d left to a chorus of orders for beer and Danny staring, horrified, between her retreating back and Adam’s arms around Ryder._

Then he recognized the waiter walking over to the pack and his blood ran cold.

He hadn’t noticed it before, on the deer or the coyote, but the cut-offs and muscle tanks didn’t leave anything to the imagination, and seeing Tommy, who he thought of as his, showing off like that, bare and vulnerable and talking to a pack of wolves, made it hard for him to think.

His senses went into overdrive, filtering everything out but the conversation his lynx was having.

“Can I get you anything else tonight?” Tommy asked, voice strained.

“Aww, I know,” the Alpha wolf said, smirking lasciviously. “How about a sweet little pussycat with whipped cream and cherries on top?” The pack erupted into supportive laughter and Tommy took a step back.

“I’m afraid we don’t have anything like that on the menu,” Tommy said, his voice cracking slightly. Adam heard himself snarling and wondered with the tiny part of his mind that was still sane, still _human_ , why no one had noticed him.

“Aww, Tommy Joe, don’t be like that, princess. You wound me.”

“Nick,” Tommy said in a scared whisper. “Please, not tonight.”

“Don’t you want your tip, Tommy?” the Alpha, Nick, asked. “Only good waiters get tips.”

“W-well, obviously that’s for you to--“ Tommy was cut off when Nick grabbed him around the waist and tugged him against his side.

“You smell like Alpha,” Nick snarled. “And he didn’t even like you enough to claim you. Poor, useless little slut. You know I would take you back if you begged pretty enough, right?”

Adam stood up, ready to intervene if the bear from earlier wouldn’t. He didn’t like his odds against a pack of wolves, but at least Tommy would run away as soon as he could, Adam thought wryly. He had proof enough of that.

Then, Nick changed his grip and Tommy yelped before shifting, and he was standing on the heap of his clothes, fur all on end and ears flat.

“Son of a fucking bitch in heat,” Nick snarled, and he reached down and seized Tommy by the scruff.

Adam gathered all the power he could in his hind legs and covered the 30 or so feet between them in one leap, closing his jaws triumphantly around Nick’s wrist and biting hard. Tommy hit the floor again with a dull thud, and Adam let go and stepped back, hovering over Tommy protectively and growling.

It was then that he realized he’d shifted.

Tommy whimpered beneath him, and Adam bent to lick the top of his head, a gentle command to stay down, let the Alphas handle this.

Unsurprisingly, Tommy surged to his feet. He remained hunched under Adam’s bulk, but there was no mistaking the snarling defiance for anything but what it was.

Adam licked his head again, a thorough swipe that made the fur stand oddly, then looked up at the pack. None of them had shifted, all looking to their leader for orders.

Nick was staring at him with an amused little grin on his face. “Really?” he asked. “Two pussies against my pack?”

Adam shrugged and relaxed completely, moving around so he could groom his tail, a portrait of feline indifference. Tommy joined in, swiping his tongue half-heartedly at Adam’s shoulder.

The dining room was silent as everyone watched the standoff.

After a few seconds, the pack was all in wolf form, and the Alpha was snarling at him. Adam rolled to his back so he could get at the tricky area where his hind leg met his body, paying careful attention because the fur there matted easily.

Tommy nipped at his ear, not oblivious to the fact that Adam had put his body between him and the wolves.

Then an old grizzly joined the standoff and swiped angrily at wolf and cat alike. Adam jumped out of his way and glared at him. Couldn’t he have interfered sooner, kept them from touching Tommy, from _scaring_ him?

The bear snarled at the wolves, and they left as a group, grabbing clothes and shoes indiscriminately and filing out.

Tommy flicked his short tail at Adam and slinked off, so Adam followed him.

As soon as the door to the staff area closed behind them, Adam pinned him to the floor and started grooming him in earnest. He stank of the other Alpha and damned if Adam would stand for that.

After a few minutes, however, Tommy changed beneath him, and then Adam was staring at his vulnerable human face and watching tears slide down his cheeks and catch in the scratches there.

Tommy’s head lolled to the side, baring his throat. Tommy sighed a little, and the tears ceased. Adam licked a strip along the artery, refusing to let himself bite. His vision went slightly red, but he knew that now was not the time, and he fought instinct harder than he’d ever had to before to hold himself back.

He butted his head against Tommy’s, not revealing his internal battle, a deep rumbling purr sounding from his throat. Tommy absently lifted one hand to pat at Adam’s shoulder.

“Didn’t mean for you to get into that, Adam,” Tommy said, fingers twisting in Adam’s fur. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I didn’t know you’d be here, and I should have just asked to switch tables when they came in, but you met Jensen. He kinda screams ‘prey.’”

Adam wondered what, exactly, Tommy was apologizing for. It was hardly within his control that that Alpha had touched him, or that Adam would succumb to instinct so readily, or any of it really.

Especially since he wore neither of their marks, the behavior from both of them was completely out of line.

The coyote came in quietly and set their clothes on the bench. “Here you guys go. Tommy, Greg says he’s gonna fire you and send out a warning to the other Were establishments, just so you know, you might wanna put on some Vaseline.”

Adam growled deep in his chest and eyed the door.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tommy said. “I’ve got another job lined up, and rent’s not due for three days. I’ll figure it out.”

Adam rolled off of Tommy, human again. “No, you won’t,” he said. “You suck at figuring things out. I’ll cover your rent until your first paycheck, and by then you’ll be touring anyway, and won’t _need_ rent.”

“I don’t need _you_!” Tommy said, pulling away and grabbing for the clothes the coyote had brought. Adam was relieved to see that it was a hoodie and jeans, not that uniform.

“No,” Adam agreed. “You probably don’t. You’re resourceful and you’ve got thick skin, but I want to help you.”

“But... why? I mean, you pretend it’s all selfless, and that you just want to help, but I know what you really want, and I’m not willing to give that up again, not to anyone, not ever.”

“It’s not just ownership,” Adam said, reaching for his own clothes to put on, taking his time with each button and keeping his gaze locked with Tommy’s. “It’s protection. It’s _belonging_.”

“I don’t need a pack. I’m feline.”

“You’re forgetting the important part of being a Were, kitty,” Adam said, tugging his boots on and doing up the laces. “Were. It comes from the Old English for ‘man.’ We all change into animals, yeah, but we’re people underneath that. And no one is more dependent on herd dynamics than people are. Just because the instincts are stronger and the pheromones are more obvious doesn’t mean we’re all that different. Ever scented a politician? They’re pretty uniformly human, but they all stink of Alpha.”

“Fuck you,” Tommy muttered, but his body language had shifted. He was _thinking_. Adam smiled to himself. He was winning.

  


Tommy was surprised that Adam had let him alone. He’d offered to let Tommy spend the night at his place-- “There’s a guest room or seven,” he’d said with a charming grin, but Tommy had turned him down, and Adam had simply dropped him off.

“You need me to get you tomorrow?”

“No,” he’d replied. “I’ll catch a bus.”

“Okay. Goodnight, kitty,” he’d said with a sort of pleased smile, and Tommy had been left staring after that damned Mustang, confused and cold and a little empty.

The next morning, he walked into the studio where they were rehearsing, and waited expectantly for Adam to maul him, the way he had every time he’d seen him so far.

What he got instead was another Were who looked a lot like Adam giving him a critical look and turning away without a word. So, Tommy thought as he followed him, this must be Adam’s brother.

The sound stage they were rehearsing on was full of props, and Tommy eyed the various risers and platforms with trepidation.

The brother must have caught scent of it, because he turned back to Tommy and gave him another look. “It’s not a torture chamber, it’s a stage.”

“I know _that_ ,” Tommy said.

“Then quit leaking fear like a newborn rabbit, okay? It’s fucking annoying.”

Tommy glared at him.

“Neil, quit harassing my guitar player,” Adam said, striding into view. “Hey, Tommy. I like to go all out, and it can get in the way of playing, or so Cassidy and Monte always told me; so we do rehearsals in costume.”

“Okay,” Tommy said.

“You can go on in. Sutan will take care of you.”

Tommy followed Adam’s direction and got a shower and final fittings done on a stage costume that couldn’t have existed 24 hours previous, and someone else did his makeup and hair and he kind of thought this must be how famous people got treated.

He remembered what Dave had said, and wondered whether it would last.

Neil came in just as Sutan was setting his hair.

“So, Tommy. What’s your deal?” he asked. “Because Adam’s all in a knot over you and even Mom’s worried about him, and she’s a fan of the ‘Adam’ll figure it out his own self’ school of thought.”

Tommy gazed at him coolly. “That’s between him and me.”

“Fuck that,” Neil said. “That’s between him, you, and everyone who ever sees you together long enough to snap a picture on their camera phone. You’re in L.A. now, pretty boy, and it’s everyone’s business.”

Tommy kept up his level stare, not letting Neil intimidate him.

“Fucking-- Okay, fine, keep it to yourself. But if you fuck anything up for him, I will kill you, got it? And even Adam won’t be able to find all the pieces.”

Tommy finally ducked his gaze away, because who was he to argue with a full grown cougar? Sometimes he wished he were a badger or a skunk instead of a lynx. No one threatened a skunk, and they were just as fluffy cute.

“Don’t mind Neil,” Sutan said. “He’s just under a lot of pressure with this tour. The bass player keeps complaining about the strings making him bleed, and Neil’s just about ready to override Adam and put bass on a recording.”

Tommy frowned. That would really put limits on other members of a live show.

“Well, can he play guitar? The strings aren’t as thick, and--“

“You’re lead guitar,” Sutan said. “Don’t be silly; don’t undersell your talent. Adam is over the moon about you.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that,” Tommy said a little drily, and Sutan laughed and sent him back out to the stage.

He’d already met Adam’s choreographer, that first night at the bar, and she smiled reassuringly, and said that he’d probably just need to stand in the background and play, not a whole lot of dancing or anything.

Then Adam came in and said he should definitely stand on one of the platforms for some of the songs, and Tommy felt a frisson of fear crawl down his spine at the words. Before he knew what was happening, Adam had pinned him to the floor and was snarling around the room, looking for an unknown threat.

“Well,” Brooke said softly, a frown creasing her brow as she surveyed the room, taking in Adam’s discarded costume and Adam himself on top of Tommy. “That could definitely put a crimp in our choreography.”

“Sorry,” Tommy said, and he felt color rising in his cheeks, though with the amounts of makeup Sutan had put on him, he figured she couldn’t see it. “I’m just... not good at heights.”

Adam backed off of him and cocked his head. Tommy couldn’t help but think he was laughing at him.

“It’s a legitimate fear, okay?” he said

Adam shifted back. “It is. Don’t worry; no one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Tommy smiled wryly at him, and Adam laughed, tipping his head back and letting his whole body shake with it.

“Adam,” Brooke interrupted. “You’re naked.”

“Right,” Adam said. “So, no jumping on Tommy every time he smells anxious. Got it. What’s the next move?”

Brooke giggled and Tommy watched the two of them interact while some unnamed emotion bubbled in his chest. He realized after a few seconds of it making his stomach churn that it was probably jealousy.

It made sense, he supposed; he’d gotten used to having Adam’s undivided attention whenever they were in a room together. Losing that would make anyone feel jealous. It was just basic instincts.

After lunch, he met Isaac, a magpie who chattered about everything and anything and took a serious liking to Tommy immediately.

“Usually cats make me nervous, but Adam’s an Alpha, and of course that’s different, and you’re harmless, aren’t you?” he said.

Tommy gave him a nasty look. He had claws and teeth where Isaac had feathers. He was anything but harmless.

Isaac giggled at him, and then tried to explain the allure of new hi-hats, and why the stylized A on his bass drum was totally cool, and so on, until Tommy was tuning out the words but not his voice, letting it keep him focused on the here and now while he dozed off.

He loved naps.

Turned out being awakened by a hand buried in his hair that gently stroked was pretty much the most awesome thing ever. It didn’t trick off any of his fight or flight instincts, didn’t leave him jumpy and anxious and feeling like everything around him was _off_ for several hours.

He blinked lazily up at Adam, because of course that’s whose hand was in his hair, and he smiled.

Adam smiled back, slow and sweet, and said, “See? Now that was worth the wait, pretty kitty.”

Tommy was momentarily confused, until he remembered that first night, and Adam being upset at him for that forced smile, and he felt a frown flicker over his face instead.

Adam just laughed a little though, and said, “So contrary.”

The second part of the day passed in a blur of aching fingers and replaying parts when Adam stumbled or tripped, and they were all exhausted.

Adam offered to drive him home and Tommy hesitated before accepting.

Adam grinned at him. “See how much better all of this is when you aren’t resisting me at every turn?”

“You didn’t claim me,” Tommy burst out with, and Adam’s smiled twisted a little, but didn’t fade.

“You didn’t let me,” he said evenly.

“No, last night, after the, the thing, with Nick and his pack. You could have-- I was so far under I would have let you, and... you could have.”

Adam shrugged. “It’s not consent, you know. If you’re deep under your instincts, it’s not consent, and it’s wrong.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “I mean, just... that’s how Nick claimed me, the first time. And then after that, it was just... it was easier, to keep saying yes.”

Adam frowned outright at that, a snarl that twisted his features, and Tommy would swear he flickered, staying upright and human only through sheer force of will. Tommy shivered.

“If I weren’t well informed that he and his cohort had left town right after they left the bar last night, he’d be dead,” Adam said coolly. “As it is, he’s lucky I have a tour to prepare for and that you aren’t officially in my pack, so I can’t ask other members to hunt him.”

Tommy shivered at that. “Yeah, how about you don’t hunt him?” he suggested. “You can’t take his pack. You may be the baddest cougar in town, but he’s got two dozen behind him, and their mates and hangers on.”

Adam petted his hair a little, and then sighed. “Even if I could take him, I don’t have the time, kitty. And it’s nice to know who you’d be laying money on if it came to a fight.”

“Not-- no!” he protested. “Just, I need this job, like, a lot, since I’m probably fired from my old one. So don’t die.”

“I can’t make you _that_ promise, kitty,” Adam said, finally drawing his hand back. “Home?”

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “Thanks.”

 

  
[   
](http://www.mediafire.com/imageview.php?quickkey=4km87uod7uwy127&thumb=5)   


 

Even knowing how he’d ended up at the Lambert household for a family dinner didn’t make it any easier to digest the fact that he’d chosen to spend his last weekend of relative independence with Weres.

Neil had come up to him as he’d been packing up following their final rehearsal, and while he’d warmed up to Tommy considerably, the invitation had come out of nowhere.

Then Neil had elaborated.

“Mom likes to feed him one last time before he finally sticks to a diet due to sheer lack of options. It’s kind of like a tradition at this point, everyone who’s involved with the tour will be there, and the other members of our pack.”

”Uh, but--“

“And you can bring your human roommate if you want. Mom doesn’t mind; Adam already cleared it.”

“No,” Tommy said. “Dave won’t be around tomorrow anyway.”

“Oh, were you going to go somewhere with him?”

“No, I didn’t actually have plans, but--“

“Well, that’s settled then. Will you need a ride? Cassidy’s got that van and doesn’t live too far from you.”

Tommy thought wistfully of the black Mustang, but he nodded at Neil.

“Alright, Cass’ll be there around five o’clock,” Neil said, punching a note into his iPhone.

  


He’d had the optimistic thought that it might be disaster free. He’d been wrong, of course, but still.

It started with Katy. She’d come to greet him and Cassidy, a warm smile on her face and a light, human scent that made him want to bury his face in her hair.

He did, too, when she wrapped him in a hug. “Kris told me all about you, of course,” she said softly. He smiled into her hair and inhaled deeply, but it was odd. Under the human scent, there was something so mouth-wateringly delicious that before he knew what was happening, he had changed and pinned her to the floor and was sniffing her all over.

Hare. He could smell hare. And it wasn’t Katy, human as she was, but she’d touched a hare earlier, and he needed to find--

“Hey now Tommy,” Katy was saying. “You know what it’s like being hit by 40 pounds of lynx? It’s kind of scary, and you’re worrying me. Please get off?”

Her pulse was racing and her breath raspy, but she was mostly calm, which soothed his instincts enough that he could shift back.

Kris chose that moment to walk in.

“This is really inappropriate, Tommy,” Katy said.

Kris laughed aloud. “Adam does say you smell irresistible.”

“No!” Tommy protested. “I mean she does smell good, but I thought-- I thought I smelled a hare, it was so _good_.” He pulled away from her and scrambled for his clothes. “I’m sorry,” he added.

“Hey, no worries. But, ah, you might want to stay away from the kitchen. I’m pretty sure Eber’s lady friend is in there, and I think she was introduced as a snowshoe hare.”

Tommy stared at her in disbelief. “But he’s a cougar!”

Katy shrugged. “I don’t think cougars go for prey that small, usually.”

“Well, clearly he’s going for _something,_ ” Tommy muttered. He tugged his hoodie up over his hair and stalked out of the room, staying far away from the kitchen. He found Adam in the den with Eber and Neil and Cassidy, all discussing something in low murmurs.

Tommy shoved away the now-familiar spark of jealousy that seeing him with Cassidy, whom he clearly genuinely liked and respected and would far prefer over Tommy in his touring band, and instead sidled up to Adam and pressed his face against his chest, demanding attention.

“Clingiest lynx I ever saw,” Eber said, and while his tone was teasing, there was an undercurrent of genuine cruelty to it, and Tommy sniffed instinctively, trying to judge his mood.

There was that hare scent again, but, forewarned, Tommy didn’t react to it. What did make him react was the Alpha musk. He whined low in his throat and moved so he was behind Adam.

Adam may not be _his_ Alpha, but Tommy _knew_ Adam was willing to defend him from another Alpha. He had more proof of that than anything else in his life right now.

On the other hand, his more rational mind pointed out, as Eber was Adam’s father, it was likely that Adam’s priorities would be different in this sort of scenario.

The whine intensified, and Cassidy sighed. “C’mon Tommy, it’s alright,” he said, taking Tommy’s forearm and guiding him out of the room.

Away from the strange Alpha, Tommy relaxed. “Sorry,” he said to Cassidy. Cassidy shook his head.

“I was glad of an excuse to leave. Up until a year or so back, Neil was still Eber’s second, and I was Adam’s. Eber didn’t like me at all, said I was enabling Adam’s descent into self-destruction. That was before Idol, of course, and while neither of us let on to Adam, well--“

Tommy nodded.

“He’s going to hate you now,” Cassidy added. “He doesn’t care for those of us who let our instincts get the better of us like that.”

Tommy shivered and opened his mouth to apologize.

Cassidy cut him off with a look. “I said us, didn’t I? I’m a half-and-half, and it was my dad’s side. I only really saw him for holidays, so I never got the right idea about control as a kid. Adam was the one who taught me about emotions controlling the change and everything.”

“I don’t even have that excuse,” Tommy whispered miserably.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Cassidy said, touching Tommy’s hair lightly. “It’s not about what excuses you have. Some people just feel more strongly than others. It is the way it is.”

Leila called for dinner, and Adam and Eber both strode past them on their way to the dining room. Cassidy smiled at Tommy, and they followed.

  


He really hadn’t meant to do it. Forewarned was supposed to be forearmed, after all, but the second he’d stepped into the dining room, the scent had hit him full on, and he was on her before he could even think about it, let alone suppress it.

She, of course, shifted herself out of fear just seconds before he grabbed her, so he overshot.

That saved her life, he knew, because while he caught her on the second try, he stopped himself from shaking hard enough to break her neck, stopped himself from killing her, the poor woman.

Not that she was all that much a victim, he thought resentfully in the few seconds before Eber reacted. She’d chosen to come to a house full of carnivores for supper.

Then a large cougar was hauling him up by the scruff and flinging him across the room. He whined and stumbled to his feet to get away.

The large cougar snarled at him and he rolled to his belly instead and prayed.

He wondered if shifting back would help any, but discarded the option. He might be bigger as a human, but lying naked and vulnerable before an enraged cougar seemed like no option at all, so he stayed feline and mewled pitifully.

A few moments passed and he realized that Cassidy was crouched over him, fully feline, and that Adam was facing off against his father.

He whined harder, and then all of them were fully human again, so he shifted back as well.

“I demand retribution, Adam, and it’s _well_ within my rights to exact it. He’s not yours to protect, damn it!”

“And there’s no way I will let you! I’ll fight you over this, don’t doubt it.”

“And your pack won’t back you up, will they? Not over an unaffiliated lynx. In a fair fight, I’ll win. I’ve been mauling animals since before you were born.”

“I’ll back him,” Cassidy said quietly. “In fact, I move that Tommy be accepted into the pack effective immediately.”

“Seconded,” Neil said abruptly.

“I think that means the motion’s carried,” Brad said with a sly grin.

“Since when is a pack a democracy?” Eber snarled. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep one properly in line. I said so, didn’t I? You can sing, Adam, but you can’t _lead_.”

“Since my pack is mixed,” Adam replied levelly. “I wanted to make sure even the birds and the humans got a say in how things were run.”

“Thank you, Adam,” Katy said softly. “But do we put it to a vote? Because I vote yes, and so does Kris, I imagine.” Kris was nodding next to her.

Cassidy snorted. “Better to count the noes, at this point, I think. Scarlett? Lee?”

The two foxes who’d retreated to a far corner nodded as well.

Tommy watched it all in a daze. He was being voted into a pack? Aside from the novelty of it, he didn’t particularly want to be in a pack.

He inhaled to speak, to protest, but Adam caught his gaze, an intense stare that _dared_ him to say something, to protest. Tommy looked at Eber then, and swallowed hard.

He nodded as well.

“That’s settled then,” Adam said quietly. “He’s a member of my pack, and as such, any punishment for any crimes brought to my attention is my responsibility.”

“Also,” Cassidy said. “It means the rest of us are constrained to support Adam in any decisions he makes in such situations, and to defend Tommy against unwanted attack. So you might be able to take on Adam, but can you take on three cougars and a coyote?”

“Four,” Leila said from behind them. “Four cougars. Don’t forget that I’m as much Adam’s pack member as I am his mother.”

Eber stood down, his body language telegraphing submission, but his scent remained angry and aggressive.

Tommy stood, finally, and went to find his clothes. Leila handed them to him and smiled. He blushed darkly and murmured an apology.

Isaac strode over and hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re really part of the Glamily now,” he said, grinning. “I was always a little concerned you might get sick of me and take a bite, but you can’t now! I’m your responsibility to protect!”

Leila laughed. “You’re barely a mouthful anyway, magpie. Even for a lynx.”

“Plus,” Tommy added. “I prefer rabbit.”

“I can see that,” Adam interjected wryly from behind him.

“Adam,” Tommy said, turning a little until Adam’s hand on the back of his neck stilled him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Mm, I know, kitty. Silver lining though; you’re _mine_ now.” Adam nipped at Tommy’s ear to emphasize the point, and that was when the dynamic shifted. Tommy was suddenly intimately aware of every pack member in the room, even Kris and Katy, and he was surprised that the magic allowed for that.

It was a cusp, and he knew he could still back out, still change his mind.

Instead, he relaxed into the knowing, and it settled in the back of his mind, where his instincts lay dormant for now.

Brad was smirking at him from across the room, and Cassidy looked smugly pleased with himself.

Adam kept that hand on Tommy’s neck and said, “So, dinner? Dad, you’re welcome to stay, as is your guest.”

Tommy shivered a little, unsure if he’d be able to eat while she was nearby, but Eber snorted. “Not likely, unless you’re going to beat him publicly before we eat,” he said.

Adam snorted in turn. “Not likely,” he replied. “Fortunately, I don’t hold with medieval ideas of pack discipline.”

“Yes,” Eber responded. “I’d noticed. Good evening everyone. Break a leg with that tour of yours, Adam.”

The retreat was surprisingly graceful, Tommy thought. He’d never before known an Alpha willing to give ground that easily.

But then, he’d never before known the Lamberts. He glanced at Adam out of the corner of his eye, and when he saw Adam looking at him, he ducked his head and let his bangs fall across his face.

 

  
[   
](http://www.mediafire.com/imageview.php?quickkey=x3z4kcb9ksf43z7&thumb=5)   


 

“Hey guys, are you having fun!” Adam said into the microphone with a wicked smirk. The audience screamed at him, a featureless, seething mass in the glare of the lights, and Tommy still hadn’t got over the dual feelings of exhilaration and terror.

Adam told him he never would.

“I want you to meet my rock band!” Adam said, sashaying over to introduce Cam first, then Isaac, who loved showing off-- he’d put his own dropped feathers into a shiny blue-green headdress and today was his first day he’d worn it. Adam commented on it and Isaac preened under the attention.

Tommy smiled at him, incapable of feeling jealous of Isaac, though the feeling surged in him when Adam interacted with nearly anyone else.

Then it was Jeremy’s turn, on bass, and he fumbled the solo a little, and Tommy cringed a little, and Adam’s smiled faded a little, and then it was over, and Adam was stalking over to him.

The audience screamed.

“And this pretty kitty is Tommy Joe Ratliff,” Adam all but purred. His hand rested possessively on the back of Tommy’s neck, and Tommy did what he’d always dreamed of doing; he played his guitar.

It was like a dream; the concerts always passed in a haze of adrenaline and sound, and afterwards he’d collapse on the bus and wake up wrapped up in Adam’s embrace, whether as cats or humans.

He kept waiting for something to shatter the illusion.

  


He grinned at the fans, and marveled that they wanted pictures with him, wanted his autograph (though it might have something to do with the way Adam stalked him on stage, forcing his head to the side and licking long, wet stripes down his throat-- an embarrassing number of the pictures were of that sort of thing, after all).

It was odd, actually-- he didn’t notice anything change around him, but one moment he was posing for pictures, and the next he was surrounded by wolves. He shifted immediately, and heard several women scream.

He wished he could reassure them.

He let the pack-sense wash over him, and as soon as he did, Neil sprinted toward him, snarling and snapping at the wolves.

They all took a step back, but didn’t flee.

Moments later, Adam yowled in pain, and Neil growled lowly. Tommy didn’t hesitate.

*Go!* he thought fiercely at Neil, knowing the word wouldn’t translate but hoping the intention would.

Neil could easily jump clear of the circling wolves; Tommy could not.

Chances were also good that they would not pursue Neil, instead sticking with their initial prey.

Neil went to Adam, and Tommy felt a small sense of relief.

Then the wolves attacked, biting his legs fiercely, pushing him to the ground. As soon as he showed his belly, one seized him by the scruff and another by the foreleg, and they dragged him away.

The pain of it followed him into black oblivion.

  


Neil had known, the second the wolves had appeared, that they were after Tommy. He remembered Adam's description of the pack, the overwhelming desire to _protect_ he felt from Adam, washing off of him in waves. Neil had always been aware of Adam through the pack sense, and while he knew he could suppress that awareness, he'd always wondered why anyone would want to.

Since he'd known, he'd gone straight for Tommy, his cougar body able to leap to his side in one bound, and he snapped at the wolves surrounding the lynx.

He grazed one, blood warm against his teeth, barely a taste, and he would _tear_ these wolves for threatening one of his pack, he would-- then _Adam_ , they had him, even more surrounding Adam than their prey, and he mewled pitifully, because there was a choice here, and he knew which one he was going to save, but he also knew that it would haunt him until the day he died.

He wished there was time to explain to Tommy, but Tommy resisted the pack sense as actively as Neil embraced it. Instead, he glanced around at the circling wolves, and felt a push of support from the lynx, a reassurance that might have meant *Go to your brother, our Alpha* but could have been anything, and he left.

The tiny lynx in his pack sense-fueled imagination succumbed in a spray of blood and pain as they bit at his legs.

  


He came to, panting and screaming.

He was human, naked and vulnerable, one wrist chained to the ground. They were outside, and he looked up to see Nick hovering over him.

“I win,” he said, a smug grin spread across his face.

“I’m in their pack,” Tommy said desperately. “They’ll come for me.”

“With more than two to one, and that’s even counting the little birdie, I don’t think they will, pussycat.”

He stared at Nick, defiant.

“I don’t think they like you as much as you think they do anyway, Tommy Joe. How long have you spent with them, and he won’t even _claim_ you? Always teasing, never trying. I’ve watched you with him, after all.”

Nick bent close over Tommy and licked his throat, a parody of Adam’s affection. But was it really a parody? Nick wanted nothing more than to possess him, and Adam had shown that that was his end goal too.

And Nick had, after all, won.

“In an hour,” Nick continued. “The rest of the pack will be here. I expect you to show them what a sweet prize they’ve brought for their leader.”

Shivers came over Tommy’s skin, and he glared defiantly at Nick.

“If your pack is going to collect you, it will be before then; they’ve had just enough time to track you here by now,” Nick said. “It should be an easy decision, in an hour.”

Tommy curled up on the cold ground, and tried to shift, to get fur between his skin and the chilly Minnesota air, but he couldn’t focus long enough to do it.

It occurred to him, belatedly, that he had been drugged.

  


Neil bit viciously into the shoulder of the wolf who had his brother's leg, tearing the flesh as much as he could, thinking vindictively that it would _scar_ , and then the pack melted away. He knew they had Tommy, and he knew it was his fault, but Adam was his priority.

He pinned Adam to the ground, full weight against his brother's chest so he couldn't worry at the awful injury to his leg.

*Change back,* he ordered, covering his fear and concern with anger, and Adam's eyes met his, dull and pain-filled. *Change back or the paramedics can't treat you.*

Adam melted back to human under Neil, and he looked crushed and vulnerable.

*I'll go after them,* he reassured.

“Yeah-- Isaac already-- he called 911.”

Neil chased the scent of wolves across the parking lot, the crowd of concerned fans melting out of his way. He reflected that Adam's naked, injured self would be all over the internet by midnight and CNN and Fox News by morning.

None of it mattered though, because the trail ended in a parking space, and he couldn't see any tell-tale drip of coolant like in those stupid crime shows, so he had nothing left to follow, and he'd known he couldn't save them both, but still.

He allowed himself exactly two seconds to regret that, and then he ran back to Adam's side just in time to snap at the paramedics while they worked.

He shifted human so he could ride in the ambulance with Adam as it raced to the hospital, and he thought about what he had to do next, as Adam's second.

He wondered how long he'd be able to convince the doctors to keep Adam sedated so he wouldn't go on a suicide mission after Tommy.

He wondered if he'd be able to stop himself from doing so.

  


When Nick returned, Tommy sat up straight and glared. The overall effect was ruined by the shivers racking his body ceaselessly after an hour in the cold.

He was followed by his pack, and Tommy instinctively sought previously sympathetic eyes-- Arthur, perhaps, and Tyler, but both of them shied away from his glance and he felt utterly alone.

His pack had not come, he realized. His pack had not come and Nick had been right: they should have had plenty of time to track him.

They weren’t that far from the city; the light pollution proved that.

Nick buried a hand in Tommy’s hair and _twisted_. Tommy yelped.

“Pussy, have you decided?” he asked sweetly. Tommy nodded, wincing as the motion pulled his hair.

Nick let go and smiled.

“Prove it,” he said, and Tommy lay back down and rolled to his stomach.

He knew the cliché; it was the worst pain he’d ever felt.

He knew the cliché, and he knew it didn’t apply.

It was the same as any other time Nick had marked him, _claimed him_. Teeth sank into the joint where his shoulder met his neck even as Nick sank into him. Tommy bit his lip to keep from crying out, but he couldn’t stop the tears from forming, not as a human.

  


It was the fourth time they'd had the conversation, though only the second with Cassidy present and torn between backing Neil up and submitting to his Alpha, and the first when Adam wasn't in medical restraints to prevent him attacking nurses or escaping.

He'd made it all the way to the parking lot no fewer than six times before Dr. Lang had given up on reasoning with him and simply ordered him restrained. Neil had been relieved, because Adam trying to escape had made his job of trying to keep the rest of the pack calm and safe while juggling a dozen calls with his brother's management and PR people that much harder.

“I'm your Alpha, Neil. You can't stop me!” Adam shouted.

Cassidy shook his head. “He's your second, Adam,” he said softly. “You should hear him out.”

“Tommy's in trouble, and he's _pack_ ; something the both of you wanted, I shouldn't have to remind you!”

“Yeah,” Neil said. “But even Tommy wouldn't want us to go after him in a situation where you're too injured to fight, they outnumber us, and _we don't even know where they are_.”

“My job is to protect him.”

“Your job is to protect the whole pack, not just one member, and we are ridiculously vulnerable right now. You _know_ they bought off our security people, and that we need to find more before we can even leave the hospital! We've all been sleeping in plastic chairs for almost a week.”

Cassidy nodded. “We need to know where they are, at the very least, before we can plan your daring rescue.”

“Tommy'll be okay,” Neil added. “He's a strong little kitty.”

“You're right,” Adam said at last. “Of course you're right.”

Neil squeezed his shoulder. He wished he weren't.

  


It had been nearly a week since Nick had caught him, since Tommy had let Nick keep him.

They were in a dingy, awful apartment on the outskirts of Minneapolis, and Tommy was on his knees, semen drying on his face and in his hair. He hadn’t been allowed to wash since he’d been with Nick.

He’d shift to a seated position, but that would draw undue attention to himself, and he already had welts enough.

Attention from Nick was never a good thing.

As soon as the thought formed, Nick buried his hand in Tommy’s hair, pulling it tight and dragging Tommy’s head to his thigh, exposing his bruised throat to the other wolves in the room.

Tommy didn’t struggle or protest, simply allowing Nick his display of power.

“Such a sweet pussycat, isn’t he, when he’s not trying to run away?”

The wolves fidgeted uncomfortably. Tommy reflected on their lack of control, wondering why he could only find his like this, at the mercy of an Alpha who wanted him more as prize and possession than as a person.

He’d rather never control his reactions again, he thought. He’d almost rather die, but he wasn’t selfish enough to entertain that option.

“You disagree?” Nick demanded. He flung Tommy across the room, and Tommy didn’t catch his balance fast enough to keep from colliding with one of the wolves.

He looked up and met Arthur’s gaze, before ducking his head and letting his hair fall forward.

“Try him,” Nick snarled. “Take as long as you like. You’ll see.”

Arthur sucked in a breath, and then exhaled. “No,” he said.

“You’re rejecting my gift?”

“I’m rejecting you,” Arthur said. “I’m leaving your pack.”

Nick gaped. Tommy ducked even lower until his forehead touched the floor.

 _Must not be noticed, do not want attention_. His heart was beating way too fast.

“I’m leaving,” Arthur repeated. “Anyone who wants to should join me.”

The wolves growled and milled and looked anywhere but at him, and Arthur snarled at them.

“You aren’t taking my pussycat with you, Artie. I know you’ve wanted him all this time, but he’s _mine_.”

“I know,” Arthur said. “Unlike you, I’m not about to disregard whichever customs I see fit. I’m going in peace.”

Arthur turned without another word and left the room. Fifteen wolves followed him.

Tommy watched them go numbly, and waited for Arthur to turn back and collect him, for _any_ of them to break custom, to take him away.

The bruises on his neck and throat throbbed in time with his pulse, and the wolves let the door slam behind them.

Almost immediately, Nick turned a furious glare on him.

“You lost me my pack, pussy,” he said. The sound of his belt coming loose from his jeans resounded through the room, and Tommy whimpered a little, in the back of his throat, but all he could do was curl to protect as much of his body as he could and bear the rest.

After the first few blows, Nick kicked at him, forcing him to uncurl and pressing his boot across Tommy’s throat. Tommy clawed at it, gasping for air, and then the belt cut across the tender flesh of his belly, then his thighs, and he cried out.

It felt like a concession, giving Nick his screams like that. Without being able to hold back even his voice, he had nothing left for himself.

Eventually, Nick gave him a final kick, and said, “I’m done with you. Go fucking sleep or something. Get out of my sight.”

Tommy scrambled to a corner of the room and curled up, already a lynx. He ducked his head and shut his eyes, but of course he could not sleep.

  


Neil woke to the scent of wolves overwhelming his instincts, and it was all he could do to cling to his human form.

He looked up at the more than a dozen men who filled the hallway outside Adam's room where Neil had exiled himself after finally convincing his brother to stay put.

He'd needed the privacy to keep from breaking down and pledging his neck alongside Adam's in getting Tommy back.

He thought, sometimes, that the problem with Weres was how too altogether _human_ they were.

“We're looking for the pack of Lynx Tommy Ratliff,” one of the wolves said formally.

Neil blinked. “I hope you aren't looking for asylum or something because I don't think Adam'll be on board with that. Like, not even a little.”

“No,” the wolf intoned. “We're here to tell you where your wronged pack member is and leave you in peace with no quarrel against us.”

“Huh,” Neil said. “Well, he'll probably be okay with that,” he said instead of whatever the traditional response was supposed to be.

The wolf blinked at him, but Neil didn't apologize. The wolf didn't deserve it.

  


Hours later, the door flew open. Tommy didn’t even flinch, just tracked the movement aurally and remained where he was.

Then his pack sense spiked to life, and he had to blink open his eyes to see, because he didn’t quite believe it.

“So,” Adam said. “You’ve claimed a member of my pack without even the courtesy of informing me, as his Alpha, and then you offered him up to your wolves to take?”

Nick laughed.

Then more of the pack, _his_ pack, entered the room. Neil and Cassidy, and wasn’t Cassidy supposed to be recording? And then Isaac, who was a magpie, flew across the space to land on Tommy’s shoulder and preen at his ruff.

Tommy stared at him, then the rest of them, while emotion bubbled in his chest. He was surprised to realize it was anger. _Couldn’t they have come sooner_? he thought, then hated himself for thinking it.

“The thing is,” Adam continued quietly. “I want him back.”

“Are you challenging me?” Nick asked defiantly, but Tommy could smell his uncertainty, his _fear_. He _reveled_ in it.

“Yes,” Adam said. “I am. I’ve wanted to since the day I met Tommy.”

“I’ll kill you. We outnumber you!”

“Nine to three, yeah. But we’re cougars, and I think three of us can take enough of you out to warrant the effort. Your pack members are allowed to leave, of course. My problem is with you.”

Nick shifted. None of the other wolves did.

Adam changed as well, and moved to circle him.

*Rip his throat out,* Tommy encouraged, the imagery powerful enough that he _knew_ Adam could sense the sentiment.

Nick moved first, and Adam lurched to meet him, teeth and fur and claws. Adam yowled, not with pain but simple fury.

Tommy pulled himself to his feet, ready to intervene if Nick got the upper hand.

Nick drew first blood, a vicious bite to Adam’s shoulder, and Tommy whimpered. His legs gave out, and he hit his belly, but he couldn’t look away.

Isaac unfurled his wings at the edge of Tommy’s vision, but Tommy barely noticed. All he could see was Adam’s staggering steps away from Nick, and the blood slicking black fur.

He knew he was whining, a constant, awful vocalization, but didn’t care.

The realization that he couldn’t force himself to intervene-- though what he could do, he didn’t know-- was sickening to him. Had he grown so used to inaction in just a week?

Then Adam moved, and Nick was on his back, where he didn’t have the advantage a feline might, dull nails instead of claws, and Adam took an experimental swipe with his paw, laying open flesh as easily as that, watching as the blood poured forth.

Tommy felt a sort of shared exhilaration with the pack, _their_ Alpha besting an enemy, and then the fight ended as abruptly as it started, with Adam tearing Nick’s throat out in a single motion and letting the meat and fur drop from his mouth before shaking himself and stepping gingerly over Nick’s corpse.

Adam stalked toward him, his eyes still predatory, and Tommy was completely frozen.

Then he staggered and fell to the bloodstained carpet, human. The bite across his shoulder bled profusely, slicking his shoulder bright red, and Tommy thought vaguely that it might mean he'd nicked an artery.

There was another bite too, on his thigh; ugly, surrounded by uglier bruising, torn stitches dangling uselessly from the lips of the wound as blood seeped sluggishly from between them.

Neil was on him in seconds. “Fuck, Adam, you were just getting better.”

“At least I can still walk this time,” Adam replied, shrugging the injured shoulder and visibly clenching his jaw against the pain. “I don't think it's all that bad, really.”

“You don't _think_ , do you?” Neil asked, exasperated.

“Get my clothes,” Adam said, a hint of a growl coloring his tone. “Tommy's too. Tommy, do you want to change back now?”

Tommy pressed back, ears flattening. Without thick fur obscuring his injuries, they'd _know_.

“Okay,” Adam said, soft and warm and none of the irritation from before in evidence. “Whatever you're comfortable with. You're a pretty little lynx, aren't you? Just as good company like this as when you're human.”

Adam stood with effort, struggling into his pants with a grimace, the attempt not to aggravate his injuries obvious in every abortive motion, but he glared at Neil when he moved to help.

Finally, he fastened the buttons and gathered the pack with a glance. “C'mon kitty,” he said. Tommy hauled himself to his feet, gasping harshly. His bruises had stiffened, and the sudden motion made his back, belly, and thighs twinge.

Adam frowned, and Tommy whined.

“Hurts?” he asked. Tommy thought about Adam's injuries, the blood and torn stitches, so he shook his head. Adam smiled at him fondly. “Liar.”

“So silly,” he continued, leaning to rub his hand over Tommy's head gently. “It's my job to protect you, protect the whole pack. Injuries are part and parcel of that for me. You, on the other hand, should be able to rely on me to take the blows so you don't have to.”

He curled his hand under Tommy's ribcage, which was all the warning he got before he was being scooped up against Adam's chest.

“Forty pounds sounds so tiny in theory,” Adam said, resettling Tommy several times. “But you're kind of a large kitty in reality.”

Tommy briefly entertained the idea of _making_ Adam too injured to carry him, but-- it seemed ungrateful. Nick was dead now, after all, and mark or no mark, Tommy was free.

Instead, he allowed himself to go boneless against Adam's chest, but he didn't purr, didn't let his alertness ebb.

He simply permitted Adam the indulgence he'd earned by virtue of being his Alpha.

 

  
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Neil drove them to the hospital, and Tommy lay on the back seat between Cassidy and Adam, and tried to let the hum of the car over roadway soothe him, but it wouldn't.

He wanted to know why Adam had decided to rescue him after all, wanted to ask a million questions, but in order to do that, he had to shift human.

Before he could decide either way, they had arrived at a hospital, and Adam was picking him up again to carry inside.

He protested this time, hackles raising, but Adam just petted him and strode into the ER, the pack falling in behind them.

While Adam was filling out forms, or rather, bitching at Neil who was filling out forms, Tommy curled up under his chair and settled in to wait. He knew it could be as long as six hours before they would have grounds for a suit, and Adam’s wounds weren’t immediately life-threatening anyway.

Adam’s bare foot edged back to brush Tommy’s filthy fur, and Tommy jerked away from the contact. Adam didn’t even notice, just brought his foot back forward to a more comfortable position.

Tommy breathed out with relief and swiped his tongue half-heartedly over the back of his paw. He had no real desire to clean himself properly right now, though he would kill for a shower.

He had just drifted off when he heard Adam’s name called.

Adam bent to coax him out from under the chair, and Tommy hissed at him. Adam snorted. “If you think I’m letting you out of my sight ever again for the next few years, you’re wrong.”

Tommy flattened his ears, but crept out from under the chair anyway.

Neil accompanied them, but Isaac and Cassidy remained behind.

As soon as they were in the care area, all curtained alcoves with the stink of blood and disinfectant and excrement, the triage nurse turned to them, put her hands on her hips, and glared.

“Dr. Lang is _not_ going to be happy to see you back here,” she said.

Adam grinned at her. “I got him back though,” he said, pleased.

Her gaze slid to him, and he ducked to hide behind Neil’s legs.

“I can see that. Does he know we can’t provide care while he’s shifted?”

“I’m pretty sure everyone in the country knows that after that fucking veterinarian bill passed this summer,” Neil said acidly.

The triage nurse snorted. “I’ll go find Dr. Lang and have you admitted, Adam. I’d say it was nice seeing you again, but really? It’s been less than a week.” She pursed her lips. “Sit down and don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

“I think she likes me,” Adam said softly, sitting on the examination table and hunching over, looking almost... _meek_.

Neil snorted. “Tracey just wants to tie you to a bed and sedate you until you're fully healed. Kinky, yes, but I think she just never wants to see your ugly face again.”

Tommy sniffed delicately, trying to filter out the sour smell of the hospital to judge Adam's and Neil's moods better.

“C'mere, kitty,” Adam said. “She said I couldn't move, but you can come to me.”

Tommy flattened his ears and sank to his belly, the epitome of reluctance.

Adam sighed heavily, and Tommy remembered being at the bus stop right after the audition, and Adam and his stupid car and _I told you it wasn’t cute anymore_. Tommy braced himself for the inevitable disapproval, wondering how much worse it would feel with the pack-dynamic and all the authority Adam actually held over him now.

Instead, he got a quiet apology. “I'm sorry, Tommy.”

Adam reached up to rub the back of his neck, letting his gaze fall to his knees, until he was hunched over and pale and _helpless_. “I came as soon as I could, I swear, and I know it--” Adam bit his lip for a few seconds, and Tommy could see the stain of blood when he let go. “I know it wasn't soon enough. And I'm sorry.”

Tommy crept out from behind Neil's legs, every instinct in him screaming that he had to destroy whoever had made his Alpha so vulnerable. The human part of him, though, was terrified that the vulnerability might be _his_ fault.

Adam didn't look at him, not when he jumped easily to the examination table, not even when Tommy curled up tightly next to him, back pressed fully against Adam's thigh.

He did tangle a hand loosely in the fur of Tommy's ruff though, so Tommy exhaled softly, a long blow of breath meant to signify comfort, and purred on the inhale, and Neil, Neil might even have smiled at him.

When Dr. Lang showed up, he scowled, took one glance at them, and started drawing up admittance forms.

“You're staying at least a week, maybe longer, and I think that you'll be on bed rest for most of that time, even if we have to restrain you again. Now, get Tommy to change so I can look at him, please.”

Adam's fingers tightened in his fur, and he stopped purring and froze.

“He won't,” Adam said softly. “He's really worn out.”

Dr. Lang snorted.

“I'll arrange for a wheelchair and the rest of your pack to meet you upstairs,” he said, even as he strode purposefully away.

Tommy walked beside the wheelchair as they went to the elevator, where he settled back on his haunches and tried to reclaim his innate feline indifference, especially since the orderly was like, seven feet tall and watching him dubiously as the elevator moved between levels.

Not for the first time, Tommy wished he had a proper tail he could tuck around himself, or maybe make a show of licking-- though the thought of dealing with all that filth nearly made him shudder with disgust.

Maybe not, then.

  


Adam had had enough of his pack, fawning over him as Dr. Lang stitched him up, rebuking Adam the whole time, insisting he be put on painkillers even when Adam said no, since he hated the way they suppressed his instincts, made him groggy and unable to touch the parts of him that were all cougar, all Alpha.

And with Tommy there, miserable and tiny and still lynx-shaped, he needed all of his instincts at the ready.

Finally, something snapped. He was pretty sure it had been his patience.

“I think you need to get coffee now,” he said, growling under the words and watching with a mixture of guilt and satisfaction as his pack fell to.

Tommy inched toward Adam on the bed, and then kneaded his claws rhythmically into Adam's good leg, an expression of bliss clouding his features. Adam frowned and nudged Tommy away. Tommy simply moved back into position and continued.

“No, Tommy,” Adam said, voice a little rough with exhaustion and emotion. “C'mon, I know the instincts seem better than whatever it is you're feeling right now, but don't. I don't want you to lose yourself like this.”

Tommy didn't even blink at him, so Adam shoved him over until he was on his back, staring surprised at Adam.

“C'mon, I want you to change back now,” Adam said, rubbing his thumb gently over Tommy's furry chest while the rest of his hand remained splayed out over Tommy, holding him immobile.

Adam could force him to change, easily, just by ordering it with the proper tone of voice, the right pressure on the magic that bound Tommy to Pack and Pack to him, but he didn't think that was the right response here.

Forcing Tommy into something was never going to be the right response, and as a result, Adam would never do it.

“Please,” he added, and then he removed his hand completely, settling back against the pillows and shutting his eyes.

The weight of Tommy next to him on the bed shifted drastically, and Adam opened his eyes again, and looked at him.

He was bruised, battered worse than Adam had anticipated, and the angry swelling bites across his throat and shoulder made something feral rise up in Adam, and he was suddenly relieved that he'd been sedated after all, because to have transformed right then?

He'd have lost Tommy completely.

Instead, he reached out to tuck a strand of Tommy's hair behind his ear, filthy as it was, and smiled.

“That's much better.”

“I'm disgusting,” Tommy said, not meeting Adam's eyes. “I--”

“Nothing a shower won't fix,” Adam soothed. “C'mon, I'll take one with you. I've got his blood on me still, I think.”

“Better blood than...” Tommy looked away.

“Nothing a shower won't fix,” Adam repeated, more firmly.

“Okay,” Tommy said meekly. Adam smiled at him.

“You're gonna have to help me,” he said. “I'm a little drugged and my leg hurts.”

Tommy bobbed his head in a nod, and he still wasn't really focusing, wasn't present, even though he was human.

In the adjoining bathroom, Tommy helped Adam ease himself down on the safety seat, and Adam groaned at the stretch the changed angle made on his restitched thigh. He ignored the slight pain, though, and nodded toward the faucets.

“As hot as it'll go, I think.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said, and he ruthlessly wrenched the temperature all the way to the bright red H, hissing and jumping a little when the hot spray hit him. Adam leaned forward into it.

“Don't want to smell that wolf on you anymore,” Adam said after a few seconds. It was the closest he could come to saying what he really wanted right then, with Tommy naked and injured and vulnerable and marked up, all at the hands of some other Alpha. “C'mere,” he added.

Tommy hesitated, then nodded once, firmly, almost to himself. Strengthening his resolve? Then he sank gracefully to his knees and reached for Adam.

Adam grabbed Tommy's hair, stopping him before he could touch Adam.

“That-- that isn't what I meant,” he said, a little desperately.

“It's the best way to make me smell like you,” Tommy reasoned. Adam had to literally bite his tongue to suppress his initial response to that. The desire to _claim_ was singing through his veins, despite-- maybe especially because of-- the fact that Tommy was all marked up and stinking of another Alpha.

“I don't want you to smell like me, kitty. I want you to smell like you,” he said instead.

Tommy met his gaze then, expression completely unreadable.

“Hand me the shampoo?” Adam suggested, and Tommy complied.

The liquid was cold when he poured it into his palm, especially against the backdrop of the scalding shower spray. Adam worked the cheap shampoo into a viscous lather, more foam than liquid, before he buried his hands in Tommy's hair, massaging his scalp and smoothing it along each strand.

“Rinse,” he ordered, voice hoarse with emotion, and Tommy did, tilting his head back under the flow and closing his eyes, even as his lips parted and he sighed. Adam licked his own lips at the sight.

“Do you want to--” Tommy asked when his hair was clean, offering the bar of soap to Adam.

“I'll get your back when you're done,” Adam said, unwilling to voice the rest. He wanted to watch. He wanted to see every expression on his pack member's face as he methodically cleaned every trace of the last week from his skin.

Tommy was careful about it too, lathering his hands and scrubbing them over his body repeatedly, almost manically, until he scraped off a scab and a streak of red trailed through the lather.

“Okay,” Adam said. “Okay, Tommy, that's enough, c'mon, rinse off so I can do your back.”

Tommy flinched, and he sent a startled gaze in Adam's direction, like he'd forgotten he had an audience.

Tommy knelt before him again, only facing the other way, and he bowed his head. Adam rubbed his thumb down the column of Tommy's spine, lightly tracing individual vertebra before finally applying the soap, though not as viciously as Tommy had.

“There,” Adam said, leaning forward to sniff judiciously at Tommy. “You're clean.”

Tommy nodded, and then stepped forward to turn off the spray. “Thanks,” he whispered, and then he fled, leaving Adam to haul himself back out of the shower.

By the time he'd limped back into room, Tommy had pulled on the clothes Neil had secreted for him, and he looked somehow more vulnerable than before, wet spots from where his hair dripped down and where water had collected on his skin staining the soft cotton of the shirt and the flannel of the lounge pants. His feet were bare, as was his face, and Adam hadn't really thought about it before, but he'd never actually seen Tommy without makeup-- he'd seen him sleep-mussed with smudgy eyeliner, or with sweat streaking through glitter, or just before a show, everything perfect and glossy, but never completely bare.

He stopped abruptly, just to look Tommy over. He tried to ignore the ache in his limbs, the exhaustion that had seeped into his bones just a moment longer.

“You're okay,” Adam said, and it wasn't really a question; it was a selfish statement. Adam had done his best, and he was tired and he hurt all over, but mostly throbbing waves of pain from his shoulder and thigh where the stitches pricked through skin, itching against his nerves.

He needed more medication, and he needed Tommy to be okay.

Tommy brought a hand up to his throat, self-conscious and hesitant, and the stark paleness of his fingers over the livid bruising made it look even worse. Adam made himself keep looking.

Finally, Tommy nodded, eyes cast down, and he sagged against the bed like it took a lot out of him to make that simple gesture.

Adam wondered if Tommy needed to be okay just as much as Adam needed him to be.

He reached to touch Tommy's cheek, and Tommy didn't flinch away, instead meeting Adam's gaze, still completely expressionless, but at least he was looking at Adam.

“You're okay,” Adam repeated, and Tommy leaned into his touch.

“Yeah,” Tommy whispered, and Adam closed his eyes.

Tommy was okay.

  
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